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"You gotta think about something else. Tell me about... Lizzy!"

Her niece shrugged and broke eye contact. "Lizzy's fine, I guess."

"Just okay?" Vivian asked. "Did things not work out?"

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "We were never a thing, okay? We kissed one time."

"Okay, okay."

"I don't wanna talk about Lizzy."

Vivian's heart hurt, so she leaned forward and down, and gave Tiffany a hug around the middle. "Love you, squirt."

"Love you too," she replied, in that exhausted way that only teenagers can truly manage.

They sat in silence for a minute more, before Tiffany said, "I do like someone, though."

This brought a rare smile to Vivian's lips, and she sat up a little straighter. "Okay. Cool."

"It's different, though. I..."

"Have you hung out with them, or is it more of a crush."

Tiffany widened her eyes for a moment, and didn't really respond.

"Okay, you know what? Different tact. I withdraw the question. I'm happy for you. I'm pulling for you. I'm here if you have any questions." Her niece nodded again, and after a few more seconds, the timer went off. Vivian clapped her hands, and grabbed her gloves. "Time to take that off." Once removed, Vivian went to work unfolding the foil sections. "Ooo, the red is gonna look good. It's so dark it's black, since it's still wet."

"What about the orange?"

Vivian made a noise in her throat. "A little harder to tell. I haven't done as much with oranges, so I'm not a hundred percent on what it should look like, but I think it's gonna be good. It looks kinda amber right now."

After this, Tiffany bent over the edge of the tub, and Vivian washed and rinsed her hair. The last few times Vivian had dyed it for her, she'd complained about Vivian insisting on doing the washing and rinsing, but not this time. She'd had been called in after both Carly and Darren had botched different dye jobs Tiffany wanted, and Tiffany had gotten in a ton of trouble the one time she'd tried to dye it on her own. Vivian had more experience dying hair than the rest of them combined, having done whole head, streaks, and tips for Lucia for years.

Tiffany became more chatty, talking about a synthwave act she was really into. This was surprising, because as far as she knew Tiffany had only been listening to very guitar-heavy bands for years, but she was excited to see her niece branching out a little more.

It took a little while to dry her hair, as Vivian never used a hair dryer on dyed hair, but once Tiffany's head was de-wetted, she looked awesome. It was the most ambitious dye job Vivian had ever attempted, with fire engine red throughout and bright orange streaks here and there that would have made Hayley Williams go whoa.

The dinner table, twenty minutes later, was loud and full, two things Vivian tried to limit her exposure to. It was one thing to put on a show, when the music was cranked but the crowd was at a distance and limited in their ability to interact with her, and another thing entirely to be seated around five other people who could reach out and touch her, and who knew things about her, and who would maybe want something from her at any given moment. Not an insurmountable situation, but certainly one Vivian didn't love.

"So how's the new job going?" Darren asked, as the bowls were being passed around.

Vivian paused, glancing sideways briefly, and said, "I think I'm about to start taking on some more patients. It's going really good."

"You are?" Delia asked, in a very quiet voice.

Vivian looked down and away, nodding, and said, "Yeah," in a rough voice.

"Is it because of—"

"Yeah," Vivian said, nodding again.

"Well I think that's great!" Carly said, jumping in. "I bet there's no end of patients who need a little bit of help like that, and you've certainly got some..." She paused to take a breath, seemingly choosing her words. "...compassion for that."

"That's one way of putting it," Vivian said, flatly, but she tried to put on a smile to soften the edge.

"Is that something I could come along with sometime?" Tiffany said, timidly. "Like a... like a take your daughter to work day?"

Next to her, Delia made a little cough. A tiny clearing of the throat.

"I don't actually know," Vivian said. "I think so? I'd wanna ask the patients first, but..." She looked to Delia with her eyebrows riding high.

"Once they get discharged from the hospital, there's a lot less control being exerted over their environment. Who comes and goes. Who helps with what. It's certainly possible."

"I have a recital coming up," Ashley said, sitting up very straight.

Tiffany sighed exhaustedly, and turned back to Vivian to add, "I'd like to come and see what you do. It sounds cool."

"It's in two months. They're bringing in the pianist from the Portland Opera. Aunt Vivian, do you think you can both come?"

"Ash," Tiffany hissed. "We were talking."

"I'm allowed to ask questions, aren't I?"

"Maybe," the older sister said, "but you're not allowed to steal my earrings."

"You borrowed my shirt!"

"Girls," Darren said, in a warning tone.

"That's different!"

"Oh, 'cus you're trying to impress that boy?"

Ashley lifted her chin, sensing victory, and Tiffany balked completely. She half turned and looked straight at Vivian, as if Vivian somehow knew or was involved. She didn't.

But then Vivian remembered how strangely uncaring Tiffany had acted whenever she was around Lucia's son, Zane, who was probably somewhere around the same age as Tiffany.

"She has a boyfriend," Ashley said, turning to the rest of the table.

"He's not my boyfriend," Tiffany said, through gritted teeth.

"I've seen them DMing."

"What is Dee Emming?" Carly asked, looking back and forth.

Tiffany looked back at Vivian without really making eye contact, and then got up. The chair made a sharp sound as it skidded backwards across the wood panel floor. Ashley looked very smug as her older sister stormed off and up the stairs toward her room.

"That was not very nice," Darren said, giving his youngest daughter a very level look. Some of the smugness disappeared.

"Will someone tell me what Dee Emming is?"

"Direct messaging," Delia said. "It's a chat thing."

"Oh fuck," Carly said, falling against the chairback and laughing in exasperation. "Duh. I thought she was into girls, and then suddenly this and all I can think of is oh god what if she gets pregnant."

"Well, let's not not worry about that," Darren said, scratching his scalp.

"I'm not ever gonna have sex," Ashley proudly announced. "It sounds gross."

"Go to your room," Darren said.

"But I didn't do anything!"

"Now," Darren said, with a stern voice.

Ashley got up, rolled her eyes, and left the room with a disgusted sigh.

"And give back your sister's earrings," Darren shouted after her. Ashley responded with a whine that was more teenage than her age should have warranted.

Vivian decided to keep her mouth shut about Zane, hoping that no one noticed the looks she and Tiffany were sharing. Delia was making herself very small, and both Darren and Carly were looking frazzled.

"Don't have kids," Darren said, half joking and shaking his head. "Well, I mean, do, if you want to, that door is always open, but not two girls. Well, no, girls are great. God, I can't imagine raising boys. Whose idea was it to have them?"

"My husband's," Carly said, looking very unimpressed.

"Well, he sounds like an asshole."

Darren and Carly had a very funny banter. They were good together, and on most days Vivian was really glad that things had gotten better enough between her and Carly for her to be able to see them in their element. On most days, they were great to hang out with, even if things still weren't perfect between her and her brother.

"What do you mean," Vivian said, "that door is always open."

Darren laughed in the way that one laughs sometimes at something that isn't funny to buy a few seconds in processing a reaction. Darren had a good poker face. Carly did not. She turned and looked at Delia in the same way that Tiffany had turned and looked at Vivian earlier.

Delia did not have a poker face either. "Uh..."

"You told them?" Vivian asked, and as she did her stomach fell as if laden with stones.

"Ah shit," Darren said, under his breath.

"I just wanted to see if it was even possible before we talked about it again!"

"I can't believe you..." She could. It reeked of best intentions. "Why..." She knew why. She also couldn't really have the fight she wanted to have because the real problem was sitting across from her, wincing and holding his wife's hand.

"For what it's worth," Carly said, "I thought it was a good idea."

"I'm sorry," Delia said, urgently. "I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to go behind your back. I just, it's a complicated thing, and I was just trying to see if they maybe would just say no and that would be the end of it and it wouldn't be a thing between us anymore. Right? It would just be over. No more fighting. Different plan."

No amount of Delia's frantic rambling, a trait Vivian usually found irresistibly adorable, was cutting her any slack, so Vivian stood up. "I'm gonna check on Tiffany," she said, for lack of anything better.

"Okay," Delia said, in a very, very small voice.

***

"Tacos! Tacos! Tacos!"

***

It had taken Vivian an extra three weeks to master the rest of Graviton's catalog, after that first night. They were not a recording and touring band as Insanity Hall had been. They were a live band, often supplementing their two albums-worth of original material with an extensive covers list. Vivian had never really gotten the groove of their setlists, how they mixed originals and covers, and she had picked up early on that her input mostly ran counter to the others. Lucia, Gene, and Beanie were a mostly united voting block when it came to what they played.

At first, this had been completely fine with Vivian. She was a hired gun, and was mostly just glad for the opportunity. As time had gone on, though, the resentment had grown a little. She wasn't mad at them, per se, but it had taken a lot of cajoling to get them to agree to a special case for Bumbershoot, which would be her final show. She hadn't said, outright, that Lucia owed her, but she had implied it, and Lucia convinced the others.

Certainly, this had caused some tension, and Vivian was finally feeling it on stage. Gene and Beanie were clearly just riding out her time. They still sounded great, but the energy was different, and Vivian was having to actively retreat into her own bubble to not let it affect her while she played. The one thing that made it all okay, if only just, was Lucia.

Their final show in Portland was not at Thirsty on Main, or even technically in Portland, but across the river in Vancouver at the waterfront. A couple restaurants had sponsored an outdoor show, and Graviton played second to last. It was the biggest crowd she'd played with Graviton, though Bumbershoot the week after was going to be many times larger.

The crowd had been lively, though. Excellent energy. A lot of people moving in and out of the front. Very responsive. That had made it easier to ignore what the two guys behind her were doing most of the time. For a good long while in the middle of their set, it had really just been her and Lucia, which still felt as good as ever.

The final song was Doctor Doctor, covering Iron Maiden covering UFO, which was a pretty perfect song for them. It had a galloping energy that Graviton could sink its teeth into without all the masturbatory back-and-forth solos that usually come with Maiden songs. She had nothing against Maiden, but when your favorite song by a band is a cover, that says something.

And that slide. Lucia's knees would buckle, and she'd end up half bent over backwards, snarling, lip curled, while Vivian was thundering through the rhythm. Their playing had only gotten better, even if things were still a little tense once the lights went down.

Until that happened, though, Vivian could pretend, so she clung to every magical second of it.

No amount of wishing a song could go on forever would make it so, though. Unlike shows back at home base, they were not closing out the night, so everyone got right to work unhooking, coiling, untaping, and carrying. There was little joking and carrying on, which Vivian felt was probably because of her, so she tried to just be done as fast as she could. Even more so than usual.

On a different night, she might have just done her part and stepped aside, but Lucia had helped Beanie with his drum kit, which was the most work, so Vivian went to start on Lucia's amp stack.

"Good show," Lucia said, panting a little, as she looped her cable from her palm to her elbow in a quick roadie wrap.

Vivian hefted one of the Marshall's, and gave her a quick, "Yeah," in response, as she hustled off stage. She had a little pile of stuff just out of the way that she was rushing to and from.

"Those go in the van," Gene said, as he went past her.

"We gotta get it off stage first," Vivian said, with forced politeness. "Terrible Prophet is ready to get out there."

Gene rolled his eyes at her, and continued toward their van, backed in behind the rear curtains, and Vivian went back for another amp.

"Hey," Lucia said, grabbing the other side of the biggest amp so they could do it together. Their timing to work together was so good, they didn't need to count down. They both lifted right on cue. "Hey, uh, is everything okay with you and Delia?"

"Yeah," she grunted. "Why?"

They set it down next to her pile, which she saw that Lucia was also putting things in, and that made her feel better about herself. Of course, the two of them had done a lot more touring than Gene and Beanie, and were a lot more accustomed to the finer etiquette points of sharing a stage. Getting out of the way was paramount.

They stood up, huffing and puffing, and looked back at the stage. It looked like Gene was grabbing the last of it while Terrible Prophet were stretching just off stage, testing their wireless rigs.

"Did you see Delia out there tonight?"

"What? No. She didn't come tonight."

Lucia gave her a tight smile, and suddenly Vivian's skin began to prickle.

"I've never seen her dressed like that," Lucia said. "I've only ever seen her, you know, doing her cute thing, or in scrubs. This was... different."

Vivian went for her phone, and groaned at it as it seemingly took forever to turn back on.

"She had on makeup, and, like, her hair was all—"

"I get it," Vivian said, brusquely. She almost always turned off her phone before shows. Delia knew that...

...except that that was a habit she'd had before the accident. When she was playing in bands. When she performed solo, she always kept her phone on. Sometimes it was even plugged into the looper, playing beats she kept saved there.

The first missed text was talking about a surprise, maybe hinting at an apology. The second text was a I'm here.

"At first I thought you just didn't see her," Lucia said. "She got near the front when we played Julia, and I was trying to point her out to you."

"I thought you were just talking about the crowd!" Vivian said, half whining through clenched teeth.

Beside them, Terrible Prophet came onstage with a roaring riff, and the crowd got loud. Lucia gave her a tight smile, and started lugging stuff from the mid pile back to the van. Vivian jammed a finger in her ear, hit the little green phone button, and stalked away from the stage.

"What?" Delia sounded pissed off, and it made her middle turn all watery.

"You were here?" Vivian said. The band got louder behind her, and she started jogging away from the noise.

"Yeah," she replied, acidly, "just in time to watch you stare at her for an hour straight."

"What?" she cried, bewildered. "It's not like that!"

"Then what is it like?"

"I didn't see your message! I didn't know you'd be here!"

"That doesn't change that you spent your whole set watching the one person who makes me insecure! God, Vivian, her?"

"It's not about her, It's those other two! I—" She cut off before she said their names, as it occurred to her that one or both of them might be within ear shot. She tried turning around, but the faces around her weren't familiar. No sign of Gene or Beanie. "It's hard to get up there and play it cool when they're behind me being so passive-aggressive."

"Yeah, I saw that too, and I have a really easy solution for you. Quit!"

"No, I—"

"Shocker. I knew you were gonna say no."

"It's one more show! She just needs me for one more show."

"She. Huh. Why are you bending over backwards for her? I can see it's stressing you out! I showed up tonight to try and be supportive, and instead you ignored me and stared at her all night!"

"Can we talk about this when I get home?"

"We can't keep doing this. No, Vivian, I... I need some time."

In her peripheral vision the screen lurched back to life, letting her know the call was over, but she couldn't react. She could barely breathe. She just kept staring ahead in disbelief.

***

Gladys met her at the door, and gave her a big, long hug. "C'mere. C'mere. Ooooo."

"Yeah" Vivian said, sadly.

"I've got Ethan's room all cleaned up for you. It's a perfect guest room, and it's got the second bath right next to it." Once the hug was over, Gladys was all business. She hustled through the house, carrying and pointing. "Did you just bring the one bag?"

"No," Vivian said. "I've got a suitcase in the car."

"A suitcase?" Gladys turned, frown now full and complete, and she ran right back into her to give Vivian another long hug. "I'm sorry, hon."

"Thanks for letting me stay," she said. "Darren and Carly were happy to let me crash on the couch, but, I dunno."

"You should have called me!" she said, turning back down the hall. "Of course you can stay. You're always welcome."

"It was late. I figured you'd already be asleep, and I knew Darren would be up. It was fine for just the one night, but their couch sucks, and the girls are getting a little too..."

"Old?"

"More like polar opposites," Vivian said. "They can't share a space at all anymore."

Ethan's old room was a neutral, clean space, with a bed, night stands, and a dresser that all could have come from any of a thousand generic furniture stores across the country. By contrast, she knew that the room next door, the one no one went into anymore, was a lot more... unique.

She didn't need to be told not to go in. She wouldn't.

"I'll get the driver to bring the suitcase to the door," Gladys said. "You just settle in. I'll take care of it."

Vivian nodded glumly, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She'd felt like a drone all day; hollow. Then the lyricist part of her brain corrected her; not hollow but empty. Hollow is simply a state of being, with nothing inside, whereas empty is more nuanced. A thing that was once full, perhaps, or could be, but is not now.

She put her head in her hands, and she cried.

***

Vivian was in the park four days later, hoping in vain that a walk would clear her head, when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Blooming hope turned into confusion when she looked at the screen. "Hey Rhonda."

"Hey, Vivian, how's it goin'?"

Vivian blinked, and looked around. Something about her tone was off. "Pretty good. I don't... have any patients today."

"Oh, I know, I know. I was just calling to see how it was going with the extra patient."